


Trust

by joltik



Category: Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joltik/pseuds/joltik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>N isn't sure he knows what trust feels like. Hilda thinks she can show him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

She’s embracing him from behind, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, her right hand lightly caressing his arm. She lets out a soft sigh, and he takes a moment to contemplate what emotion that expresses. Contentment? He thinks so.  
  
It’d taken him a while to become accustomed to this. This level of physical contact, of intimacy…he’d flinch away from her touch before, unsure. (What is this? Why? What does she serve to gain, why him?) But this much…he is okay with. Now, at least. It’s…pleasant.  
  
She squeezes his arm lightly, and he…goes blank, not sure how he’s supposed to respond to that. He’s not expected to react a certain way, is he? But while he’s lost in his own mind, she speaks. “Hey, N?”  
  
“Mm?”   
  
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about.”  
  
He waits for her to continue, then wonders if she wanted him to respond. N opens his mouth to speak, then--  
  
“Do you trust me?”  
  
That…he’s really not sure how to answer that. He likes her a lot, of that much he is certain. He has felt things, for her and because of her, that he’s never felt before. And really, if there were anyone in this world he could say he trusted, it would be her. But…  
  
…he’s not sure he knows what trust  _is_.  
  
(And after everything he thought he knew turned out to be a lie…)  
  
“I don’t know,” he finally says. “I’m sorry.”  
  
He worries that’s the wrong answer. He doesn’t want to make her unhappy, but he doesn’t want to lie to her, either. It’s such a human conceit, lying, and an unpleasant one at that; he’s not sure it’s one he’ll ever become accustomed to.  
  
But if she’s unhappy with his answer, it doesn’t show in her voice, at least to his untrained ear. “Hmm… I can’t force you to, but I’d like it if you did.”  
  
“That…I think I would, too. I’d like to be able to trust you.”  
  
“I‘m glad. Then…” She pulls away, and he hears rustling as she goes through her bag. He tilts his head to look, but she’s already found whatever she was looking for and hidden it away. And then she’s behind him again, and she says, “I’d like to teach you how.”  
  
“You’d…like to teach me--”  
  
Then his wrists are enclosed by something strange and…fuzzy? He tenses up.

She must have noticed, because she says, “If you’re uncomfortable with this, then…”  
  
He sort of is, but he’s not really sure how to feel about it. It’s strange and alien, being restrained like this, but at the same time, there’s a part of him that’s curious…  
  
She’s moved again, coming to sit cross-legged in front of him. Then her lips press against his softly.   
  
Kissing is a strange experience to him, even if it’s pleasant enough. Living around Pokemon from a young age has ensured that perfect hygiene’s never been his biggest concern, but there’s still some level on which it feels like he  _should_  disgusted by this. Saliva’s not exactly something he finds appealing. And it serves no evolutionary purpose as far as he can tell, no use like Pokemon’s kiss attacks and--it’s really hard to keep focused when she’s kissing him like that. It’s not…it’s. Pleasant. In its own way.  
  
And then she starts unbuttoning his shirt, and he freezes. Then, he looks away, reddening. She’s really going to…with him handcuffed. Well.  
  
Her hands still. “Really, though, if this isn’t okay…”  
  
“…no, it’s…” He doesn’t really know how to respond. He’s definitely confused by this, but…he’s still curious. Still wonders what she’s getting at. And it’s…not unpleasant, at least. “It’s fine. Go on.”  
  
No sooner than he’s finished speaking, he feels her lips brush against a nipple, and he’s let out a soft sound before he even realized it. That’s…it’s not the first time they’ve done something like this, even if it’s only happened a few times, but this is new. Her lips and tongue work at one nipple and fingers stroke the other, and he has to stifle another moan and  _when did he get hard--_  
  
“I never knew your nipples were that sensitive.”  
  
Neither had he.

Then her hand drops down, down to  _there_ , and his breath hitches.  
  
So she’d noticed that, too.  
  
She drags her hand up slowly, undoing the snap on his pants with a deft flick of her wrist. This is…what is this? It’s…surreal. “Are you really planning on…”  
  
“If you’re okay with it.”  
  
“…go ahead.”  
  
Then he feels something wet and warm engulfing…that, and his mind starts to race. He’s…that’s…she’s…with her mouth.  
  
This is new. New and frightening and  _good_. The movement of her lips, her tongue, the way his hips are rocking into her movements unconsciously…  
  
It’s all too much.  
  
When he comes back down, when he can think once more, he’s aware his breathing is labored, and when did he wind up on his back? (It’s a little awkward, really, with his hands still cuffed behind him.) That was…she’s…  
  
There’s something about it that seems unfair, though. That he was able to feel that way, but he can’t… “Hilda…” he begins, but he’s at a loss for words (because how exactly is he supposed to say something like that?)  
  
“Hm?” The way she smiles at him…it doesn’t help at all, when she’d just…his face is burning, and he’s probably bright red, and  _isn’t it interesting, how the human body does that?_  
  
“What about you, though?”

“Huh? What  _about_  me?”  
  
He looks away, completely flustered and still unsure how to word it. “It’s…awfully one-sided, isn’t it? With my hands like this, I can’t exactly…reciprocate…” Well, he supposes he could; there’s probably some…equivalent to what she did, even if her anatomy’s not the same, but it’d still be awkward to arrange without his hands, and…he’s not sure it’s something he’s comfortable with right now. The idea doesn’t  _repulse_  him, but it’s an idea he’ll need time to get used to.   
  
…It’d be nice if he could stop blushing at some point.  
  
“Oh, is that all?” She’s laughing now, and he looks up abruptly, a little peeved. To have his concerns brushed off like that is… But then she composes herself and says, “Hey, don’t worry. Just leave everything to me, okay?”  
  
Then she’s unzipping her shorts and pulling her panties down, and he can’t help but watch as she starts to touch herself. With anyone else, it’d feel obscene, perverse…but with her, he’s entranced; rubbing  _here_  elicits a soft moan, whereas  _there_ , it’s a gasp through clenched teeth. There’s somewhere her fingers hit inside of her a few times that makes her buck against her own hand. Her hair, down for once, is a mess, obscuring parts of her face (he kind of wishes that he could brush it away), and her other hand is brushing against her breast. She’s almost off in her own little world, or so it seems to him.  
  
She’s beautiful.  
  
He leans in to kiss her, dimly aware that he’s starting to become hard again. But that’s okay. This is something that takes getting used to…but he’s getting there.  
  
It’s her who deepens the kiss, who presses against him and wraps her arms around him. It’s her who rubs against  _that_  until he can scarcely bear it, until he’s gasping out “ _Hilda--_ ,” and it’s her who takes him into herself. She’s the one who takes the lead, always, and it’s okay. It’s natural. (She knows more about this than him, after all, and she’s…)  
  
Is this what trust is? Ah, maybe. If it is…he trusts her. Definitely.  
  
And he’s glad.

**Author's Note:**

> Dooon't look at me. This is old as butts, and I'm sorry.
> 
> (The handcuffs are Bianca's.)


End file.
